


Shepherd To The Lost - A Mandaloria Novella

by Lavender_Nebula_Twilight



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cobb And Din Friendship, Din Djarin & Cara Dune are Best Friends, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Din Djarin Whump, Din Gets Drunk, Din Has A Mental Breakdown, Din cries A LOT, Drunk Hangover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I wrote cobb a tragic backstory because of course I did, I'm a sucker for platonic friendships, Lots and lots of fun emotional suffering, Set Right After The Rescue, Worried Cara, cobb please come back for season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight/pseuds/Lavender_Nebula_Twilight
Summary: After Grogu leaves, Din is broken. Shattered. A shell of his former self. Without his son, he doesn't know what to do with himself. When he returns to Nevarro, he just gives up. He wanders into a cantina and starts to drink. More and more and more. Cara can't bear to see him like this and suggests a getaway. Din knows only one city fit for the much-needed distraction. Mos Pelgo.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin/Grogu | Baby Yoda
Comments: 32
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter One - The Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on my Mandalorian Novella: Shepherd to the Lost!
> 
> So, I wanted to write a one-shot where I explore the emotions and Din's reaction for right after the elevator doors close at the end of the Rescue, but then I got more ideas and I've decided to expand it! IDK how long it will be, but Din GOES THROUGH IT in this fic. Of course he does cuz I love din whump!!
> 
> I love reviews also! And not because I'm bragging and I want y'all to tell me how great I am. Do you come across a chapter that you think could be improved upon? Some error you notice? Tell me! I strive to improve. :D But if you really like a chapter or something, again, let me know!
> 
> So, I think that's it! I hope you will stick around, review, favorite, follow, all that cool stuff. :D
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy Shepherd To The Lost!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> I do not own the Mandalorian TV show, the Star Wars franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to their original makers. Everything to them. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.

Grogu and I exchange one last look before the elevator door shuts with a click.

And then he’s gone.

My kid… My son…

My chest squeezes so tightly that I’m having trouble breathing. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I’m numb. Numb. The tears in my eyes burn and my effort to hold them back makes me tremble uncontrollably. Every heartbeat roars in my ears and an emptiness settles onto my heart. A deep crevasse. A hollow cavern. An empty labyrinth in which Grogu used to perch, chipping away at the walls of my heart with his gentle coos, stubborn temperament, and innocent nature.

He’d seen my face at last. The face of his father. His father. My foundling.

My…foundling.

_“By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father.”_

Foundling.

The term stabs me through the heart like a Beskar spear.

No longer.

He’d reached his small, green, three-fingered hand up to me and touched me. _Really_ touched me. For the first time. Ever. He’d brushed his little claws over my jawline, scratching at my stubble. His massive, sweet, brown eyes had locked with mine. And we’d lingered there. Resting in each other’s gazes. Secure. Warm. Soft. When I’d initiated the goodbye, those ears dropped as fast as the launching of an escape pod. His tiny mouth had cracked open and from it had come one of his signature whimpers.

A darkness settles over me, harsh and deep.

He’s gone.

Really gone.

I…

Can’t…

A tear slips down my face.

What am I gonna do?

Grogu’s gone, the Razor Crest is gone, I’ve broken the Creed twice now, I…

Who am I?

“Mando.” Bo-Katan’s voice jerks me from my sorrow. “I– .”

“Take it.” My voice barely comes out– choked and strained. “I don’t care. Take it.”

Bo-Katan growls. “I _can’t._ I must defeat you in battle. Right here.” She draws a blaster. “Right n– .”

“STOP!” I whirl around, glaring. “Just stop!” Everyone’s staring now, at me, at my vulnerable, bare face, but I couldn’t care less. “Take it, and get out of here! I-I can’t– I’m not– .” I clench my fists. “I don’t– I-I’d– I can’t– You don’t– I-I– !”

Behind Bo-Katan, I spot the X-wing among the stars. Leaving.

My sanity hangs by a thread. Bo-Katan’s voice echoes distantly somewhere. I just barely get the words out– “I need a minute,” –before I stumble from the control room and descend the elevator. The madness crawls through my head, getting closer and closer. The hum of the elevator cuts through my conscious.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The door opens and I start running.

I pelt through the hallways, the corridors, room after room after room, going no where, nothing, no purpose, no direction, just away. I just need to get away.

Stormtrooper bodies blur past me, body after body after body. Blood splashes under my feet and sprays up on my boots.

I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t care. I just need to get out.

By the time I stagger to a stop, I’m in the middle of a shadowed corridor, faint lights pulsing on the ceiling. My chest burns like fire and every breath rattles. Wheezing, I brace myself against the wall, agonizing cramps pumping through my stomach.

I give up.

My legs buckle and I collapse, sobbing. The tears pour down my dirty face and my chest constricts. I can barely breathe. With every hitching breath, every raw whimper, my body shudders so hard that the tears fall faster. All my emotions that I’ve been forcing down from the recent events come rushing to the surface– the Razor Crest, my vessel, my home, _gone._ My Creed, willingly broken, _gone._ Grogu, my life, my heart, my son, _gone._ Everything’s gone. My parents, my stability, my solid ground, my kid…

Memories hit me, one by one, like blaster shots.

_Bam._

_“Wherever I go, he goes.”_

_Bam._

Learning Grogu’s name. His massive eyes blinking up at me the first time I’d ever said it.

_Bam._

The cookies in the cockpit. His accident. Wiping the mess with my cape.

I would do it all over again.

_Bam._

Saving me from the Mudhorn. His little hand, raised, and his eyes, squinted, as he’d lifted the gigantic creature.

_Bam._

_“You’re like a father to him.”_

_Bam._

_“You’re…very special, kid.”_

_Bam._

The ball. The metal ball… His favorite toy…

_Bam._

Stealing him back.

_Bam._

_“Hey! Spit that out.”_

_Bam._

_“Don’t play with your food.”_

_Bam._

Taking off my helmet for him. For Grogu. For my son.

_Bam._

_“…you little womp rat…”_

_Bam._

_“I knew you could do it.”_

_Bam._

_“He means more to me…than you will ever know.”_

I’m crying so hard that my face goes numb. My bloodshot eyes swell up, aching. I hunch over, gripping my head in my hands, and scream until my voice gives out on me.

_I never told him._

_I never told Grogu…that I loved him._

_I loved you, Grogu._

_I loved you so much._

_You were mine._

_And I was yours._

_Mandalorian and foundling._

_Parent and kid._

_Father and son._

My voice is gone when I slump to the floor, my eyes burning like someone had pressed a red-hot iron against them. My tears are depleted, the fight in me is all but destroyed, and every inch of my body is drained. I don’t have the energy to cry, to move, to care, to live. I’ve lost…everything.

On the floor of Moff Gideon’s Light Cruiser, lost in the shadow of an endless corridor, I let myself go limp and retreat into unconsciousness, the only place where the toxins of life won’t follow.

_* * *_

Fennec and I exchange a glance as Mando disappears behind the elevator doors. I bite my lip and start to follow him, only to be stopped by Fennec’s hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t. Give him some time alone.”

I hold her gaze for a moment longer before turning to Gideon’s unconscious body. “What are we going to do with this mudscuffer?”

Bo-Katan grinds her teeth. “Bring him back with you. My quarrel is no longer with him.” Her fingers flex against the blaster triggers.

I follow her gaze to the elevator. “Go after Mando, and you die.”

Fennec raises the comm to her lips. “Boba, we’re ready for extraction.”

The gravely voice answers her. “Copy that. On my way.”

The silence that settles after Boba’s hail is deep and heavy. And fifteen minutes later, it’s still alive.

Boba jumps on comms again. “I’m boarding the ship on the east landing wing.”

“Got it.” Fennec holsters her blaster and slings Gideon over her shoulder. She turns to me. “Go find Mando. Come join us when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” I scoop up Mando’s helmet and check the security feeds. An organic signature blinks in the southwest side of the ship. I chew on the inside of my ship. _Damn, he really ran._

I nearly get lost on the way to Mando. The twists and turns, the junctions and sections, start to add up. I turn a corner. “Mando?” My call echoes through the corridor and my feet tap on the metal floors. “Hey, Mando!”

No answer.

I’m about to call again when I see an armored body slumped at the end of the hallway. My heart leaps into my throat. _Was he injured before?_ I hurry to him and drop to my knees at his side. My stomach clenches in sympathy as I observe him.

Tear stains harden on his face like a cocoon and his eyes are almost swollen shut, ringed in red. His face is so pale that the lights above barely change his skin tone.

_He’s obviously been crying. Hard._

I set his helmet off to the side and nudge him. “Hey, Mando. Wake up.”

His eyebrows twitch and he groans.

“That’s it, buddy.”

His lids flutter open and reveal his red, bloodshot eyes.

I force a smile. “Hey, buddy. I’m sorry to wake you, but Boba’s waiting.”

Mando pulls himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. “How long has it been?”

I wince at how damaged he sounds, like he’s been screaming. “Um… Only about thirty, forty-five minutes. I brought your helmet if you want it.”

He shakes his head, his breathing shaky.

I rise and offer him my hand. “Come on. We’ll get through this together.”

His eyes flick to me for a few seconds before he takes my hand and I haul him to his feet.

He’s shaking so hard he can barely stand. He squeezes his eyes shut and groans, swaying.

I catch him as his legs buckle. “Whoa, steady!”

Panting, he grips my arms like lifelines. After a few more seconds, he clambers to his feet again.

I cross-examine him. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Just…just dizzy.”

“You want to lean on me?”

He massages his temples. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

***

Boba greets Cara and I as we approach. Even with his helmet on, I can sense the confusion radiating off of him. The tilted head, the glances from my face to Cara’s, the tight shoulders…

“What happened? Where’s the kid?”

I walk right past him and into the Slave I. Gideon’s awake now, strapped against the wall with his wrists bound in shackles. His eyes flash when he sees me. “Ah, the Mandalore returns…”

I don’t even look at him and practically collapse into a chair. A pounding headache thrashes in my skull and I can’t think straight. My mind is breaking down, its ability to form coherent thoughts destroyed. Fatigue drags every muscle down. I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and stare at the floor.

Gideon keeps talking, a smile in his voice. “What are you going to do now? As the rightful ruler of Mandalore, you now have a whole planet under your authority.”

Cara walks in and the Slave I rattles into motion.

The Moff laughs. “You can’t run from this, Din Djarin.”

I clench my fists at the mention of my real name. Still, I can’t summon enough strength to answer.

Cara sits across from me. “Shut up, Gideon.”

He doesn’t. “You’re alone. No ship…”

My heartbeat speeds up.

“No identity…”

Nausea accompanies the cramps in my stomach.

Cara stands. “Gideon, be quiet.”

“No Creed…”

I hunch over, my head in my hands.

“No son– .”

Cara punches him in the face and he goes quiet. I can feel her turning and looking at me. Her footsteps fall around me and her boots come into my vision. She returns to her seat. After a moment, she speaks. “Din.”

I run my hands through my hair, keeping the nausea at bay. My chest constricts and again, I’m having trouble breathing.

Cara takes my hands in hers and lowers them from my head.

Slowly, painfully, I return to the sitting position and lean back, my gaze fixed on the floor.

“Din…if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

I say nothing. Her using my real name doesn’t even bother me. I don’t have the energy to care right now.

“If you need to cry again, then do it. It’s okay.”

I give a half-hearted shrug.

Cara rubs my knee. “You did the right thing. You– .”

“I wanted to be selfish.” It comes out before I can stop it.

Cara cocks her head. “What?”

“I wanted to steal him back. I wanted to rip him away from the only chance he’s had at being trained. I…I wanted to be selfish and I _hate_ myself for it.”

My best friend gives me a little smile. “Din, you…you just had to give up your son. It’s completely normal to want him for yourself. That-that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I grit my teeth. My head pulses like someone smashed it with a hammer. “Y-you don’t know the things I’ve done. The person I was.” My voice chokes.

Cara gets up and sits next to me, rubbing my back. “But I know you _now._ You’re an amazing person, Mando. You’re strong as hell and a _damn_ good father. So don’t give me that bullshit. Okay?”

I don’t move, but I acknowledge her words with a squeeze. The ground sways and dizziness rocks my vision. I grip the armrest to stop myself from falling onto Cara. _What the hell did that Dark Trooper do? My head feels like it’s been carved open…_ My ears ring and the shrill sound vibrates through my skull. I shut my eyes to block out the dizziness, but in the darkness, it gets worse. For a moment, I think I might pass out. When the bout progresses, I realize that Cara’s shaking me.

“Hey, Mando!”

I come back to myself and turn to her. “Wh-what?”

Cara’s eyebrows are knitted together and her brow furrows. “Are you okay? You almost passed out for a second there.”

I blink hard. “Y-yeah.”

Cara quirks an eyebrow at me. “Gideon said you fought a Dark Trooper. Are you injured?”

“It-it’s my head, I’ll be fine. I’m just dizzy.”

The rebel trooper cross-examines me. “You should get some rest. You look terrible. I’ll have you checked when we get back to Nevarro.”

My head spins as I get to my feet and I brace myself against the wall. My temples throb with pain so bad that my vision blurs.

“You okay?”

Fennec’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. “Is he all right?”

“Dark Trooper gave him a concussion.” Cara takes my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” She leads me to a bunk and helps me remove my armor.

“Cara.” I wheeze out her name as fatigue pulls me down.

“Hmm?” She sets the Beskar pieces off to the side as I hand them to her.

I can’t look her in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She smirks. “For not letting you punch Gideon? I wanted to do it, I assure you.”

When I don’t respond, her smile fades. “Din.”

I say nothing.

“Din, please. Talk to me.”

My mind races with sentences, explanations, ideas, suggestions, anything that I could say to assure Cara that I’m fine.

But I’m not.

I’m losing my mind.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, anything…

_“I’ll see you again. I promise.”_

I burst into tears in front of her, crumpling to the floor.

Cara kneels and pulls me into a hug where I shiver uncontrollably, crying and crying over everything, over anything, over nothing at all. I curl into her embrace and my head falls into her lap. Cara strokes my hair and mutters soothing words like a mother. Stripped of my armor, sobbing like a child, I melt into her presence.

And eventually, after the very essence of my emotions is spent, I collapse into her arms, whimpering, and fall into a sleep so heavy that I barely feel Cara tucking me in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? How'd you like the first chapter?
> 
> DIN PLEASE HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN SEASON THREEEEE!!


	2. Chapter Two - The Numbing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was too much fun to write, mwahahahahaa!!!!
> 
> Anyways, this chapter contains drunkenness and hangover vomiting, so if that's something you don't want, then maybe don't read this chapter? IDK, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> I do not own the Mandalorian TV show, the Star Wars franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to their original makers. Everything to them. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.

I wake up long before we arrive at Nevarro, but I can’t find any motivation to rise. I lay in the silence, listening to the monotonous hum of the Slave I as Boba pilots through the expanse of space. My body is heavy and every breath is a painful reminder that my son no longer sleeps beside me. His cooing and gurgles will never again cut through the rattle of the Razor Crest, and the Razor Crest will never fly again.

My ship, my home, my family, my son…

Everything’s gone.

Time goes on. The seconds into minutes, minutes into hours. I clench Grogu’s metal ball so tightly and for so long that my hands cramp. I spend too many hours imagining different scenarios in my head.

_What if it had gone differently?_

_What else could I have done?_

_What was the Jedi’s name?_

_What if Grogu didn’t want to go?_

_Will he be okay with his new guardian?_

_I should have spent more time with him._

_We barely had time together before he was ripped away from me._

_Grogu left me._

_And took my heart with him._

I can’t…

Who am I?

Grogu became my whole life.

Without him, I’m…

Nothing.

Tears burn in my red, puffy eyes. Despite myself, hopeless anger claws at my chest. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of feeling.

How can I numb everything? How can I lose myself?

With that thought at the front of my mind, I cover myself with the blankets, curl into the fetal position, and sob. I don’t know when, but at some point, I cry myself to sleep. At some point, the universe takes pity on me and drags me into darkness.

And in that darkness, I dream.

* * *

Cara wakes me about ten minutes out from Nevarro.

I drag myself from the bed and follow her to the main hull, strapping on pieces of Beskar as I go.

My best friend glances at me and her eyes darken. She ducks her head, pursing her lips.

“Cara, stop.”

Cara pauses. “What?”

“Please don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m worried about you.”

My throat closes and tears threaten. _Dank ferrik, not again…_ “I know, but worry when I’m not here. It’s hard enough as it is without you looking at me like I’m wounded.”

She says nothing.

Boba pipes up on the comm. “Strap yourselves in. We’re landing.”

Cara and I sit next to each other, watching the hull turn from the inside.

My heart thumps hard in my chest. “Cara.” My voice trembles.

She turns to me.

“What am I gonna say to Greef?”

Cara takes my hand and squeezes. “I’ll take care of the talking. You just take care of yourself.”

I rest my head back and my entire body shivers, whether from nerves or hunger, I can’t tell.

_Greef hasn’t seen me without my helmet. What will he say? What will I say? Where should I go? What do I do?_

The hatch creaks open and we meet Boba and Fennec outside. In the distance, Greef’s cloaked form walks under Nevarro’s gateway.

Boba faces me. “I’m sorry about how things turned out, Mando.”

I can only nod.

“Fennec and I are off to Tatooine. You’re always welcome in our company, should you want it.”

“Thank you.” I shake hands with him and his companion, and my eyes follow them as they make their way back into the Slave I.

When I turn around, Greef’s approaching us.

He does a double take when he sees my face and glances at Cara with a question in his gaze. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it again. The magistrate steps toward us, eyes still narrowed.

I work my jaw, staring at the ground. The heat of Greef’s eyes burn a hole into my skull.

Cara squeezes my shoulder. “You can camp out in my house for now; I’ve got a spare room and another bed.”

“Thank you.” I mumble the words through the lump in my throat and stalk past Greef. As I retreat toward the city, I hear a brief exchange from behind me:

“Should I ask?”

“We found the kid. But Mando had to give him up immediately after. He’s not taking it well.”

“His ship?”

I block out the rest of the conversation, and enter the city. The bustle fades into the background, the commotion, the crowd, the merchants, the market stalls, the squealing of alien species, everything shrivels into white noise. I move as if in a daze, my feet leading me nowhere. Shadows pass over me, the crowd swallows me up, and I stumble into a room. Music blares in my ears and I find myself in a busy cantina.

_When did I get here?_

I blink twice.

Credits cut into my palm and a chair squeaks under me. _When did I get these out? When did I sit down?_

A butler droid zips up to me. “Hello, sir. What can I get for you?”

I stare at him for a few seconds and the thought from earlier resurfaces.

_How can I lose myself?_

I push the credits toward him. My drink or sustenance of choice is usually broth or flavored water, but I want something stronger. Something strong enough to drown the pain. “Novanian Grog. Three flagons.”

If the droid had eyebrows, they would’ve shot sky-high. “You hosting a party or something? That’s a lot of powerful alcoh– .”

“ _Now._ ” I glare at him. “No questions.”

The droid leaves to work on my order.

Part of my mind is screaming at me:

_What the hell are you doing? This is not healthy. That much Novanian Grog could kill you._

But another part of me rises up to dominate:

_Anything to forget. Whatever it takes. Anything to forget._

The droid slides the flagons and a glass in front of me.

I fill the glass to the brim and lift it to my mouth.

_Anything to forget._

The first mouthful goes down. I welcome the bitterness and take another swig. My tongue tingles.

_Numb._

I stare straight ahead into nothing. The sound of a bar fight behind me is background noise.

I drain my glass and pour another.

_Numb._

Halfway through the second glass, my head starts to spin. My body trembles. The scene of Grogu’s goodbye gets blurry.

_Anything to forget._

Another gone, another poured _._

I gulp this one down in record time and I’m shivering uncontrollably. By now, I can definitely feel the effects of the alcohol. But I welcome it.

Another.

Gone.

Another.

Poured.

I lose track at five drinks. Six. Seven?

One flagon gone.

At some point, my vision blurs over and I have to grip the table to keep from falling over. Another gone, another poured. My mind fogs and I’m so dizzy I can’t see straight.

_Numb._

I can’t feel the pain of my headache anymore. The world sways, dipping and swerving around me. I drain another glass. Two more. Three more.

_Numb._

My vision keeps blacking out in longer increments as I keep going. My mind slows, my heartbeat rushes in my ears, and I start to lose my grip on reality.

_Why am I here again? What am I doing? Where am I?_

Another gone.

Another poured.

It’s automatic now. It’s robotic.

I don’t remember why I started.

I don’t know why it feels so good.

But I sure as hell won’t stop.

Another gone.

Another poured.

_Numb._

_Just…_

_Numb._

Eventually, I feel someone pulling me away from the table. A woman; dark hair, muscled build, tattoo under her left eye… Her mouth moves in slow motion and her eyes scan my face.

_Is she talking? I can’t hear anything._

She half-drags me through a city– _where the hell am I?–_ and into a living room.

_When did we enter a house? Do I know this person? What...?_

My thoughts trail off and my body simply gives up. Going limp, I pitch forward and pass out cold on the couch.

* * *

By the time I lug Mando back to my house, I’m sweating buckets and panting. Nauseous with worry, I drape a blanket over my best friend and change into some comfort clothes. A knocking at the door brings me down the stairs. I answer it and come face to face with Greef.

“I just wanted to check on you and Mando.”

I glance back at him, who’s unconscious on the couch. Sighing, I turn back to Greef. “I thought he’d come here, but I found him in the cantina on his _third_ flagon of Novanian Grog.”

Greef’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Damn, it’s bad.”

I chew on the inside of my lip. “Yeah. He was drunk off his ass when I found him. I’m surprised he could walk at all.”

“Anything I can do?”

I lean against the doorway. “Just…help keep me sane. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with Mando, I…” My eyes water. “He’s already not reacting well and…I don’t want to see my best friend waste away because of it.”

Greef claps me on the shoulder. “You’re a strong woman, Dune. Hang in there. I’ll come check on you both in the morning. For now, have a good night.”

I watch him depart, the moonlight heavy on his cloak.

* * *

I wake up on a random couch with no idea where I am. My head throbs so fiercely that my vision spots with black. I run my tongue over my lips, but my mouth is as dry as Tatooine in a drought. _Water… I need water…_

I tilt my head to the side and scan the room. _Cara… This is Cara’s house. When did I get here?_ I shut my eyes against the pounding of my head. _What happened? I don’t remember anything…_

The world is spinning as I raise myself up on my elbows. I dart my eyes around the room, feeling my heart rate escalate.

_What the hell happened? Why can’t I remember? I remember leaving Cara and Greef, but after that…_

I grip the edge of the table and stand up.

_Bad idea._

Instantly, the nausea hits me with enough power to bring down a Bantha. I barely make to the bathroom in time before the vomiting starts. I hunch over the toilet, on my knees, gripping the edge of the sink so hard that my knuckles turn white. My head feels like it’s cracking open, splitting down the middle as my stomach heaves. I double over, throwing up everything in my body until the dry-heaving takes over.

At least thirty minutes later, I’m leaning over the toilet, gasping, as my body decides to pause.

The light flicks on and I flinch with a cry, mashing my eyes shut. In the milky darkness, I can feel a presence. I crack open my burning eyes to find Cara standing in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest.

I stare at her for a few seconds, squinting.

She sighs and quirks an eyebrow. “Well, good morning.”

Still out of breath, I slump against the wall behind me. “What time is it…?”

“One.”

I work my jaw. “What happened?”

Her voice hardens. “I told you to come here, but you went and got yourself _drunk_ instead.” She grits her teeth. “Mando, this isn’t healthy. Grieving is part of life, but not like this.”

I don’t answer.

“Can I get you anything?”

My eyes fluttering shut, I groan as my head spins. “Um… Some water? Please?”

Cara nods and retreats to the kitchen. When she returns with a full glass, she kneels down in front of me. “I’m going back to bed, but wake me if you need anything.”

I swallow a mouthful. “Sorry.”

She stops in the doorway. “You should be apologizing to yourself, not me.” She takes another step, then pauses. “I do accept it, though. Your apology.”

Her footsteps recede and leave me in silence once again. My muscles like lead, I drain the glass and stagger back to the couch, stripping down to my sweaty underclothes. Curled in the blankets, I fall into a drunken sleep.

Two hours later, I don’t even make it to the bathroom before I’m retching up the water from earlier. It burns coming up and I double over the trashcan, coughing up what feels like raw fire. I’m so dizzy that I have to seize the edge of the counter to keep from keeling over. Every heave is like someone twisting my insides and tears prickle in my eyes.

When I finish, I notice Cara on the other side of the kitchen, filling up another water glass and preparing a plate of crackers. I hold up a hand to stop her as she approaches me. “N-no. I can’t keep anything down…”

“You need to eat. How long has it been since you ate anything?”

I take a moment to think about it. “Two…maybe three days– .” I break off with a gag, and a stream of bile trickles from my mouth.

“Damn it, Mando!” Cara runs a hand through her hair. “You need to be taking care of yourself. I-I can’t stand to see you like this.”

I clear my throat and move away from the trashcan. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait.” Cara appears in front of me, grabbing my shoulders. Her eyes glisten in the faint light. “Please, Din. Let me help you. Grogu wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Tears flood my eyes and my heart pangs like tearing open a wound. “I-I don’t know what t-to do…”

She wipes my tears away. “You need to get out of your head. You need a place to come to terms with this. Do you know anyone that you could spend a few weeks with? Anyone that’ll be a distraction?”

I rub my face with a dirty hand. “Um… Tatooine?”

“Boba and Fennec?”

“No, I… Someone else.” I start to move away, but Cara traps me in a hug.

Her trembling voice whispers up from my shoulder. “Din, please. Please fight. If not me, then for Grogu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof... Din's in a really bad place...
> 
> ANYWAYS...


	3. Chapter Three- The Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, sorry this one took so long! I had some writer's block, but I watched the Marshal episode again and inspiration came so fast :D I LOVE COBB <3

When I wake up, the morning sun is glaring through the window. I stagger to the kitchen and manage to choke down a piece of bread and few crackers. Footsteps fall on the stairs and Cara rounds the corner.

Her eyebrows skyrocket. “You’re actually eating. Wow.”

I munch on the crackers, swallowing down the nausea. “So what’s the plan today, Marshal?”

“You said Tatooine, right?”

I pause, thinking back to last night. Or more like early this morning. “Yeah. I know someone in Mos Pelgo.”

“Mos Pelgo? That’s far into the Dune Sea. Are you sure you’re– ?”

“Cara, please.” I frown at her and rub my temples.

“How are you feeling?”

I set the empty water glass down. “Nauseous. Head hurts.”

“Well, you look terrible.”

“Thanks.” I stuff myself full of a few more crackers and wash it down with some water.

“Don’t eat too fast.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower. Then we’re leaving.” I run a hand through my dirty hair. “Have your ship ready when I’m done.”

Cara nods and her gaze follows me out of the room.

My head pounds with every step and the sunlight from the front door window stabs me in the face. My vision goes blurry and I grope for the wall.

Instead of the wall, Cara’s there, holding me up. “Steady, you drunken nerfherder.”

I wait for the world to clear. “I-I’m fine. Let me go.”

Cara withdraws. “Please don’t pass out in the shower, Din. I’m not dealing with you naked.”

I ascend the stairs, holding onto the railing to keep from falling. As the shadows of the upstairs wrap around me, the symptoms abate somewhat. When I enter the bathroom, I flick on the light and the flash of burning white on my retinas sends the dizziness back full force. I cover my eyes with my hands, leaning against the wall, and wait out the pain. When I can see again, everything is spinning wildly out of focus. I manage to strip naked, turn on the water, and stagger into the shower as the dizziness prevails. The dusky shadow of the curtain brings some relief and I breathe deep of the tropical-scented shampoo.

Despite my attitude earlier, the feel of the water drumming onto my back is soothing. I spend the next twenty minutes scraping away all of the sweat, dirt, and tears from the last few days. Halfway through it all, I have to pause, lean over, and vomit in the middle of the tub. What little food I’d managed to force down comes right back up in one massive heave. By the time I’m done gagging, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Din? You all right in there?”

I rest my head back against the shower wall, fighting the urge to curl up right there in the soapy bathtub and fall asleep. My eyelids have wills of their own, carrying the weight of one-thousand Beskar-filled camtonos. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

I grit my teeth. “Cara, go get the ship ready.” I wait for her to leave, then finish up the shower. When I step out of the heated mist, I notice a stack of folded clothes on the counter, as well as a scented comb, a pair of tiny scissors, and some mustache wax.

A smile crawls onto my face for the first time in days.

_Cara, you never fail to take care of me._

Despite the hangover fatigue dragging me down, I get dressed and make myself presentable. Leaving the bathroom, I grit my teeth against the swaying of the room and stumble down the stairs.

Cara meets me outside. “There you are. Come on, the ship’s ready.” She gestures to the edge of the city.

I follow her gaze and direct sunlight attacks me again. I flinch away with a cry and slam my eyes shut. For the millionth time that day, my eyes scald with pain. I’m so dizzy I almost keel over, but Cara is once again there to hold me up. I try to pull away from her. “I’m fine, just…just lightheaded. Sun’s bright.”

“Can you walk?”

I step back and massage my eyes. “I’m not dying, Cara. I can use my legs.”

“Yeah, but you are extremely hungover, so I have to be prepared to catch you if you lose your balance.”

I scoff and we stroll side-by-side to the ship. By the time we clamber into the cockpit, my legs are aching like I’ve just run halfway across the Dune Sea. My tongue is like sandpaper and my mouth is drained of all moisture as if I’ve swallowed a handful of sand. Yet another headache makes the world tilt slightly off its axis. Groaning, I fumble for the passenger’s chair and collapse into it.

Cara’s intense gaze is frozen on me as she straps in.

Even though I just showered, I can already feel sweat building up under my clothes. “You got any water?”

Without saying anything, my best friend fishes a bottle of water from a compartment. “I put a bucket next to your seat. If you throw up this all up later, then use that.”

I nod my thanks and instantly raise the water to my lips, taking gulp after precious gulp. At least half of the bottle is gone when I lower the bottle.

Cara’s staring at me.

“What?”

Her face shadows. “You’re trembling.”

I lift my hands to eye level and they’re shaking uncontrollably.

Cara’s presses two fingers to my neck.

I jerk away. “Hey– !”

“Stay still!”

My heartbeat drums against her touch.

“Your heart rate’s up.” Cara pulls away with a shaky breath. “Please, Mando, before you do something reckless like this, think about how I might feel? _Please?_ ”

I purse my lips and watch her pilot the ship off the ground. “I’m s– .”

“Just drop it.”

The ice in her words catches me off guard. “Cara…”

She sets a navigation course in the ship’s log and twists her chair around to face mine.

I blink against my headache. “Um… What– ?”

Cara jerks forward and yanks me into a hug.

I freeze.

She trembles with her arms around me, and her reaction floods my eyes with sudden tears.

Cara pulls away, her jaws clenched together.

I try to blink my tears away, but it only makes them fall faster. “Cara, I…” My entire body trembles and the wave of emotion churns closer. I swallow it down and grit my teeth.

Cara places a hand on my shoulder. “Just cry. It’s okay.”

I glance up at my best friend’s soft expression.

She gives me a little smile. “Grogu loved you so much.”

That does it.

The last hinge breaks loose and I break down into sobs, burying my face in my hands. Cara holds me as I cry and I crumple into a coughing fit, choking on my own tears. Eventually, my voice gives up on me and I wheeze through every sob. The headache from earlier cuts into me, splitting my skull open and blurring my vision. As the crying dies down, Cara guides me into the hull and into a bunk. For the third day in a row, my best friend tucks me in and leaves me to the wolves of sleep.

They feast, and I fall.

* * *

Tatooine rises like an ascending sun over the horizon and I shoot a look at Mando before retreating to the cockpit. “Start landing array, turn on– .”

“Huntress, this is the Mos Eisley contact. Please head for landing bay three-five.”

“Copy that.” I flick a few switches. “Locked in for three-five.”

The radio signal dies and I drift into the atmosphere, easing the Huntress into a gentle landing. A woman with a brown, feisty afro strolls in to watch the landing and a trio of Pit Droids waddle behind her.

I descend the cockpit and find Mando perched on the edge of the bunk, rubbing his temples. “You sleep well?”

He opens his eyes to focus on me. “Mmm…”

“What?”

“Mm, not really. But what should I expect at this point?” He stands and steadies himself on the wall, blinking hard.

I buckle a blaster to my belt. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s a little…blurry, but…” He withdraws from the wall and sways

I come to his side and keep him from falling over. “Steady, Mando. You’re still really hungover. Don’t overextend yourself.”

Mando groans. “Damn the Grog.”

I pull away. “Hey, this is your own fault.”

Mando shuts his eyes as the hatch creaks open. Desert sunlight pours into the Huntress, sharp and powerful. A tingling warmth spreads through my muscles.

I glance at Mando, who’s blinking rapidly against the light. He finds the wall again, taking a deep breath.

I raise my eyebrows. “You gonna throw up again?”

“Mmm-mmm.” He shakes his head. “Dizzy. Jus’ give me a minute…”

I pat him on the shoulder and march off my ship to meet the mechanic outside. I offer my hand in greeting. “Cara Dune, Marshal of the New Republic.”

She grins, chuckling. “Fancy meeting you here, Marshal. We were just talking about some stolen parts of mine.”

“We?”

She jerks her head toward the droids. “My buddies and I.”

“I would help if I had time, but my friend and I have– .”

The woman bursts into laughter, slapping me on the shoulder. “I’m pullin’ your leg, Marshal. No need to busy yourself helpin’ me! I’ve got enough parts to build my own ship.” She sticks out her own hand. “Peli Motto, at your service. Now,” she puts her hands on her hips, “what can I do for ya?”

I cross my arms and shield my eyes from the sun. “If you could look over my ship while I’m gone, I’d really appreciate it.”

She smirks. “We?”

I open my mouth and am about to answer when Peli looks behind me and realization floods onto her face like a new dawn.

She stalks past me and greets Din at the bottom of the hatch. “Hey! This armor…” She pokes the Beskar scantily thrown onto his body and glares darts of fire at him. “Where’d you get this? You kill the Mandalorian?” She peers back at the Huntress. Her jaws clench and the veins in her neck bulge. “You kill his _kid_ too?”

“Peli…” Mando’s voice crackles and his bloodshot eyes still hold the red swelling of his earlier breakdown. “It’s me.”

Peli cocks her head and pauses. “You… Mando?”

Din nods, his shoulders slumping, and his raspy voice is barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

“It’s you?”

He dips his head again.

Peli cross-examines him. “It sure doesn’t look like you.”

Even from this distance, I can see tears well up in Din’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve… It’s been a long day.”

Peli’s expression softens like butter. “A long couple days, I think.” She wrings her hands and spares a glance behind him. “Where’s…the little womp rat?” She speaks in a delicate manner, as if the slightest trigger would shatter Mando’s composure.

A few tears trickle from Mando’s eyes. “Kid’s gone. A Jedi took him. He’s not mine anymore.”

Peli gifts him a smile and she takes his hand. “He’s always been yours. Even before you found him. You two love each other, I can see that.”

Mando’s whole frame trembles and his fists clench. “L-loved. Past tense.”

The mechanic shakes her head. “Don’t try that with me, you scruffy-looking bastard.” She grins and squeezes his shoulder. “Your love for that little critter is immeasurable.”

Din sniffs, casting a look at me.

“So.” Peli pats him on the back and guides him toward me. “Where brings you two to Mos Eisley?”

Mando grunts, massaging his temples. “Um… We’re headed to Mos Pelgo.”

The mechanic raises her eyebrows. “Again? What did you find there last time that’s so special?”

“A stranger.” He screws his eyes shut, breathing low and deep.

I bite my lip. By the working of his jaw, I can tell he’s battling a throbbing headache. Which I now know to be a common symptom of his self-imposed hangover. “Peli, you know where we can find a Landspeeder?”

“Sure do. You can borrow mine.” She guides us into the shop where the dusty speeder is parked next to the door. “Just take good care of it, you hear me?”

I help Din clamber into his seat and take my position behind the controls. “You got it.”

“I don’t want to hear that a Krayt Dragon’s gobbled it up! I won’t take kindly to that.”

Starting up the speeder, I talk over the ignition. “We’ll have it back in one piece. Thank you!”

“No problem. Now get outta here before I change my mind!”

* * *

Despite the scorching heat of the Dune Sea, the wind rips through my black hair and provides a refreshing, eternal breeze. We ride through the churning waves of sand in silence. Mando doesn’t want to talk, and I don’t push him. I don’t even try. One look at him– eyes staring blankly out into the endless horizon, tear stains frozen on his face– and I know not to engage. For now, that is. What he needs is time.

About an hour out from Mos Pelgo, I slow the speeder to a stop and reach back into my pack.

Mando speaks for the first time since we left Mos Eisley. “What is it?”

I fish my lunch of meat, cheese, and bread out of my bag. “I’m hungry.” Tossing Mando a hunk of cooked meat, I quirk an eyebrow at him. “You haven’t eaten since this morning. Eat that.”

Mando’s breath catches in his throat and sets the meat away from him.

“What?”

His entire face goes white. Mando lunges for the side of the speeder and leans over the edge, vomiting into the sand. For at least ten minutes, he’s doubled over in the middle of the desert, retching up what sounds like his stomach itself. He pauses for a moment, panting, and I use the brief interlude to slide in with a comment:

“I sure hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

Mando groans. “Shut up.”

When he’s finally done, he collapses back against the seat, as pale as a white lightsaber.

My brow furrows. “You okay?”

“Obviously not. Jus’…just go.” He motions me forward and slumps further back into the seat.

The speeder eases forward and I find a steady, fast pace along the dunes. I lock into cruise control and kick my legs back on the front of the vehicle. Whisking a piece of hair out of my vision, I peek over at my best friend.

Mando’s descended into a drunken sleep. His skin is bone-white, as pale as the moon. A sheen of sweat gleams on his face and his chest rises and falls a little too quickly. I reach over and check his pulse. A fast and thready beat drums against my fingers and the feel of his clammy skin makes me shudder. _He looks terrible. Should I get him up to drink some water?_

I purse my lips and turn to face the horizon. _No. Sleep is the best medicine for him right now._

The swell of the desert fades as the hour drags on, and at some point, a little settlement appears far ahead in the distance. We approach the village and I nudge Mando awake.

He fidgets and his eyes flutter open. “What…?”

I chew on the inside of my lip as I see his dilated pupils. “Mos Pelgo is up ahead.”

Mando sits up, grunting. “Mmm. He’s never seen my face before.”

“Who?”

“The Marshal. Cobb Vanth.”

We cruise into the settlement and the villagers pause in the streets to stare. Their gazes glitter in the sharp sunlight and every look whispers a different question.

_“What are they doing here?”_

_“Are they here to fight?”_

_“Will they attack us?”_

_“Intruders?”_

_“Visitors?”_

_“Peace?”_

I park the speeder off to the side as I see a sturdy man with speckled-grey hair marching toward me, his belt jingling. A holster bounces against his hip.

His eyebrows twitch as he looks from me to Mando. “Hey, strangers. What can we do for you?”

I hop out of the speeder and step toward him, initiating a handshake. “Cara Dune, Marshal of the New Republic.”

The man’s eyebrows shoot upward. “New Republic? Damn.” He chuckles. “Didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

“No, thankfully.” I smile at him.

“Anyways, I should probably introduce myself. Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo.” He smirks. “What brings you folks out here? It’s quite far out in the Dune Sea and you certainly didn’t stumble into here.”

“My friend here says he knows you.” I turn toward Mando, who’s clambering from the speeder.

Cobb squints, scanning the Mandalorian.

My best friend clears his throat and works his jaw. “Vanth.”

The Marshal reaches forward and taps the Beskar armor. His grizzled brows raise above shadowed eyes. “This armor… It can’t be. Mando?”

Din can’t meet his gaze.

Cobb thumps us both on the shoulder. “Let’s talk over drinks. How does that sound?”

I peer over at Din, who’s face has gone pale again.

Cobb glances between us and reaches for Mando. “You aren’t lookin’ too good, partner. Are you– ?”

Din shoves Cobb away, hutches over, and throws up a stream of bile in the middle of Mos Pelgo. Nothing else comes up, but he continues dry-heaving as his body fights to expel the poison of his own making. He holds onto me for support, coughing up stomach acids.

Cobb fixes me with a worried look.

Din staggers upright, swaying.

I balance him. “Hey, steady.”

He groans, moving a hand to his head. “Migraine… Cara- .”

“It’s okay, buddy.”

Cobb takes his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed, partner. Before you collapse on us.” He escorts us to his home and leads Mando inside. A few minutes later, he meets me back in the streets and we find a seat at the cantina.

Cobb waves a hand at the counter. “Weequay! Spotcha, two glasses.”

The proprietor nods and gets to work on his order.

The Marshal turns to me and leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyebrows quirk upward. “So what the hell happened?”

I give into a heavy chuckle and drop my head. “It’s-it’s a bit of a long story.”

“It’s about the kid.”

I raise my head, mouth agape.

Cobb’s face is tight and worn, his earlier jest forgotten. “Isn’t it?”

I prod my tongue into the raw patch of my cheek, the place my teeth always find amid stress. The place where I’ve tasted blood on more than a few occasions lately. “Yeah.”

Cobb waits, listening.

I explain the whole story. The hunt for a Jedi, Grogu’s name, the capture, Mando’s frantic search to retrieve him, his drive, his spirit, his blind desperation. Everything he’d risked to rescue his son, and having to give him up within minutes of getting him back.

I finish with a clenched jaw. “He’s…still quite hungover.”

Cobb swallows hard. “Hmm. Didn’t know he drank.”

“He doesn’t.”

The Marshal has to look at me twice to see if I’m serious. “That bad, huh?”

I heave out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I recommended a getaway to help him clear his head, and apparently, this city was the first thing that came to mind.”

Cobb chuckles despite the situation. “I’m honored. Most people don’t even remember Mos Pelgo existed, let alone want to come back. It’s a bit of a bore. Since we made peace with the Tuskens, nothin’ ever happens around here.” He takes a swig of spotcha. “It’s nothing special, this town.”

I smile crawls onto my face. “Maybe that’s exactly what he needs.”

After we’ve drained our spotcha glasses, Cobb walks me back to the speeder.

He puts his hands on his hips and squints through the sun. “I’ll show him a good time, you can be sure of it.”

“I’m really sorry to dump him on you. I’d– .”

“Ah, don’t worry yourself over me, partner. Mando and I had some good fun way back when, and I’m more than willin’ to help.” He tilts his head toward the crisp, sunburned sky. “I know what it feels like to lose someone you love.” His eyes flutter in the breeze and he goes quiet for a few seconds.

I lean against the speeder. “I’m…sorry. A child?”

Cobb drops his head and fiddles with a rusty medallion hanging from his neck. “My wife. Lost her to a sandstorm when she went out huntin’. She was pregnant with our little one.” The Marshal peers up at me, chuckling despite the topic. “Sand buried her body for us. Never even found her bones.”

I wince. “I’m so sorry. It…must’ve been hard.”

He shrugs. “I’ve found a family in this town and I know she’d be proud of what I’ve fostered.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “So what about you Marshal? What’s your story?”

My heart squeezes. “I’m…from Alderaan.”

Cobb’s face darkens. “A family? Friends?”

I nod, my throat tightening. “Everyone.”

The Marshal shakes his head. “I’m sorry for your loss, partner.”

I turn my gaze to the horizon.

“Oh, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. You must have things to do.”

I smile and hop into the speeder. “Keep me updated.”

“Of course.”

I give one last nod of thanks before zipping off into the desert, the wind slicing through my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> What do you think of the name I gave Cara's ship, the Huntress?
> 
> Don't know what else to say :P
> 
> Read and review!


	4. Chapter Four - The Partner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little short and sweet chapter to continue the story. First hopping into Cobb's POV! I love writing in his POV :)

I wake up multiple times through the course of the afternoon and evening, every time amid a splitting headache, every time lying in my own sweat, every time lunging for the edge of bed to vomit. And every single time, my throat burned raw from dry-heaving, I collapse back into the bed, huddled in sweaty sheets, and sleep.

When I finally wake up and stay up, I stare at the ceiling, battling nausea.

_“Hey, this is your own fault.”_

I ease myself up and off the bed, swinging my legs over the side of the mattress. The room spins and I grip the en-table as the nausea intensifies. I sit there, breathing low and deep, as my stomach contemplates whether or not to heave.

“You all right there, partner?”

I turn toward the voice and Cobb Vanth stands in the entrance, clothed in a simple nightshirt and jeans. His salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back, save a couple unkempt curls.

I avert my gaze, groaning. “Marshal, I– .”

“Please,” he lifts a hand, chuckling, “call me Cobb.” He steps up to my side on worn sandals.

“What time is it?”

“Not too late. Maybe around nine. I finished a game of cards with Jo in the cantina, then I figured I’d come check on you. How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.”

Cobb scoffs. “Well, we’ve all been there.” He squeezes my shoulder. “First time?”

“Hmm?”

“First time hungover.”

My stomach clenches. “How’d you know?”

“Because of how severe it is. I reckon you drank on an empty stomach? Chose a strong drink?”

I grumble under my breath.

“What’s that?”

“Grog. Almost– .” I swallow hard as a pang runs through my abdomen. “Almost three flagons.”

Cobb whistles. “Damn, partner. No wonder your body hates you right now.”

I screw my eyes shut as my mouth waters.

The Marshal hands me a pail and thumps me on the back.

I double over the bucket, pain rippling through my body as I start retching. I’m shivering uncontrollably, painful tears welling in my eyes, throwing up beside the person who’s only ever seen me at my best.

Cobb just sits there, rubbing my back in silence.

Practically drowning in my own sweat, I hunch over, the bile burning like a stream of fire in my throat.

_I’m never touching alcohol again._

When I’m finished, my face shines with perspiration.

Cobb stands and takes the bucket from me. “Go take a shower and get cleaned up. Take all the time you need. I’ll have a good, hearty dinner prepared for you when you’re done.”

I wet my lips, still out of breath. “I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Cobb pauses. “Leave? What in hell are you talkin’ about?”

I glance up at him, every muscle in my body aching for rest. “I can’t ask any more of you. I’m not gonna bother you any longer than I have to.”

Cobb squints at me, a grin pulling at his lips. “You and I need to have chat about priorities, partner.”

***

After setting out a plate of food for Mando, I throw on a jacket and stroll outside. The evening chill of the desert washes over me and I smile.

Despite the hour, the town is bustling with life. All around, villagers hammer wood into porches, exchange goods, chat in the streets, and come in and out of the local cantina. Even a few Tuskens engage in signed conversation between a few of Mos Pelgo’s inhabitants.

Yet another way that Mando improved the town.

I walk up to the Tuskens and raise a hand in greeting.

One of the masked locals uses my name sign with enthusiasm– a C handshape brushed twice along the jawbone to represent my scruffy beard.

I laugh and pinpoint the orange strap of fabric on his cloak. _I haven’t seen this Tusken around recently. Shit, I forget his name._ Raising my eyebrows, I tilt my head and ask for his name sign.

He strokes his neck with two fingers and my memory catches up with me.

_Ah, Jegu! Scar down his neck…_

The Tuskens entrance me in conversation about a herd of Dewbacks traversing through the Dune Sea and we discuss the trade of Krayt Dragon meat with the cantina.

As the moon rises and the hour grows later still, the chill of the nightly desert takes over. I make my rounds with the village, check up on the cantina storage, and wander back to my home.

I shut the door behind me and the soft desert wind fades. Slipping off my sandals, I fit into tough socks and pad into the guest room. “Howdy, Mando– .” The sight stops me in my tracks.

Mando, his hair still fuzzy from the shower, lies spread out on the bed, his head cradled in the pillow. The plate beside him is empty, save the evidence of the meal itself. In the wake of shower, Mando looks even thinner than before, and I’m left to wonder how many days he had gone without eating or sleeping in his feverish haste to save his kid. His lips slightly parted, his face worn but peaceful, the famous Mandalorian is but a man. A broken, human man. His red eyes swollen from tears shed in my absence, his hands clenched around a little, metal ball, the esteemed Mandalorian is gone. In his place is a heartbroken father.

As I was.

I step forward and pull the blankets to his shoulders. Mando doesn’t even stir. _Damn, he’s out cold._

I retreat to my own bedroom and slide under the covers. The moonlight trickles in from outside. I heave a long sigh and pick up the framed picture of my wife. Tracing her smiling face with a finger, I can almost feel her arms around me. “Goodnight, Vihn.” I press my lips to the picture and linger for a few seconds.

_Please be with me, Vihn, as I help this man through his grief. Help me to say the right things._

I pull back to look at her face one last time before clicking off the light and descending into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it? :D What did you think of Cobb's tragic backstory that I put in there?
> 
> Anyways, read and review!


	5. Chapter Five - The Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, done with this one too! More nice moments with Cobb and Din in this one.
> 
> Also I love Massiffs <3

I wake up sober.

I can tell by the way the room doesn’t spin, by the way I ease myself out of bed with sure footing, by the way my stomach doesn’t heave as soon as I stand up. A slight headache accompanied with low-level nausea and fatigue coast through me, but the improvement from yesterday brings a smile to my face.

I notice a folded jacket and a note on the en-table.

– _Howdy, Mando!_

_Hopefully you woke up feeling better. Sleep is good for hangovers, I assure you. Anyway, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’ve got plenty of Krayt Dragon meat stored away from your last visit, believe it or not. Take your time eating, resting, or whatever else you gotta do. When you’re all set, you can let Weequay in the cantina know. I’ll meet up with you soon. Hang around– there’s something I want to show you._

_– Cobb Vanth_

I fit into the tough, Bantha-hide jacket like a glove, and its snug tightness reminds me of my Beskar.

My Beskar.

Beskar.

Helmet.

Signet.

Clan of two.

_Grogu._

My mood drops like a boulder down a hill.

_“…you are as its father.”_

_“Wherever I go, he goes.”_

_“ But then I see the little guy…and I think…maybe I pegged you wrong.”_

A wave of darkness washes over me, so powerful that I have to grip the windowsill to keep from falling to my knees.

Grogu. My kid. My child. My son.

The way he’d touched me. His little hand on my cheek.

The way he’d reached for me with eager paws, the tiny talons groping.

The way his eyes had searched my face with such fascination, such wonder, such love.

The way he’d cooed every time I’d offered him the metal ball.

The way he’d waddled after me, wherever I went.

The way he’d lifted his arms to allow the Jedi to take him.

The way he’d wanted to go. The way he’d fixed me with one last look as the elevator doors closed, a look filled with boundless wisdom and power.

The way the significance of my Beskar had peeled away as I’d taken my helmet off.

The way my heart had died inside me when Grogu made his choice.

About twenty minutes later, I lift my face out of my hands and find myself backed against the wall. Sometime earlier, I’d slid to the floor. Tear stains dry on my cheeks. I shake my head and hoist myself to my feet. When I step into the bathroom, my image in the mirror is a blotchy, flushed expression, reddened from crying. I’ve cried more in the past couple days than in all my life. Even when I was a child. The Mandalorians hammered me with training and regiments and schedules and rules so that I didn’t have time to cry or to waste time over my emotions.

I clean myself up, have a quick breakfast of biscuits and dragon meat, and step outside into the sun. Unlike the harsh sting of my hangover, the light is soft and washes over me. Its gentle warmth soothes me like a mother’s embrace.

Something I haven’t felt in so long I almost forget what it feels like.

Almost.

I tilt my head back and let the breeze flow through my hair. For once, I’m glad to be free of the restraints of my helmet. Finally, I can feel the wind through my hair. I can feel the curled fuzz tickle my forehead.

The quiet activity of the town brings me back to reality. I pinpoint the cantina and start toward it, the sand crunching under my boots. A couple Tuskens bustle outside the entrance beside their market stall. As I walk by, they notice and rope me into conversation about Bantha migration and Jawa trade systems, or the lack thereof. For a moment, I actually forget Grogu.

But just for a moment.

A hot puff of air tickles my leg and something nudges me. I turn my attention downward to find a young Massiff sitting attentively at my side. A thin tongue lolls from its mouth and its eyes flick up to me. The muscles in its scaly back ripple. He tilts his head up and whines in my direction.

My heart flares with a bittersweet pain.

The whine had sounded just like Grogu. Flashbacks rip me away:

_Grogu sits on his chair, strapped in, playing with his metal ball._

_I decide to give his name a try. “Grogu?”_

_He whips his head up, cooing._

The flood of tears doesn’t even surprise me at this point. I drop to one knee and the Massiff plops his head on my thigh. The deep sandy-brown of its eyes remind me of Grogu. I grunt in Tusken and give the Massiff a vigorous scratching.

The creature shudders in pleasure and his throat vibrates as he purrs.

The dry wind rushes over us. The Massiff’s back leg spasms. A warmth grows in my chest.

And for the first time since Grogu left, I feel myself smiling.

“Well, this is something I’ve never seen.”

I recognize the southern drawl at once and turn to find Cobb strolling up to me, hands on his hips. “What?”

Cobb points up at me. “A smile.” His own face lights up with a grin and he claps me on the shoulder. “Happiness looks good on you, partner.” He scans me, his expression softening to a warm glow. “How you feelin’?”

I inhale and hold my breath, hesitating over my answer.

_I’m good. Great._

_That’s bullshit._

_I’m okay._

_A little better. Still no._

_I’m tired._

_In the past seventy-two hours, I gave up my son, drank enough alcohol to kill me, had a hangover for the first time, threw up in front of Marshal of the New Republic several times, slept on a bed that I didn’t even ask to use, took off my helmet in a room full of people, and the only thing I can come up with is that I’m tired?_

_More bullshit._

_I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, in every possible way, I’m bone-tired._

Cobb takes my shoulder and leans in. “Hey, you all right there, partner?”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Y-yeah.”

The Marshal lowers his voice. “You doin’ okay?”

_Damn it, this question._

_Be honest or lie?_

_I’m fine._

_Okay._

_Shit._

_I’m…_

_Always on the brink of crying from losing the only thing that’s ever brought me true happiness? I’m losing my mind? I–_

“I don’t know…who I am.”

Cobb stares at me for a few seconds. He clenches his jaw.

_Dank ferrik, I said that out loud._

The Marshal pats my back and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Mando. Let’s find some seats and have a chat. I can tell you need to get something off your chest.”

_Damn right._

_Only I’m a coward. I’m weak._

_And without the Beskar, Cobb can finally see it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE ANGST. BRING ON THE ANGST.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter Six - The Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DANG I've been WAITIN for this chapter!! Lots of emotional turmoil in this chapter.

We find seats side by side at the bar and I run a hand through my messy curls.

Weequay greets us at the table. “What can I get you both?”

Cobb knocks on the counter. “A shot of spotcha.” He turns to me. “Mando?”

The mere thought of a drink makes me nauseous and I groan. “Hell, no. No more alcohol.” My stomach churns. “Even thinking about it, and I wanna throw up.”

Cobb pats me on the back. “Take it easy, partner.”

Weequay stops by with Cobb’s drink and slides me a glass of water.

I blink twice and reach for my pouch of credits.

“Don’t worry about it. Free of charge.”

I take a sip and the icy cold liquid numbs my throat.

Cobb leans back. “Kid have a name?”

I set my cup down, my throat tightening. “Grogu.”

“Hmm. Fits him.” The Marshal drains his glass. “How’d you find him?”

I clench my fists. “You said you wanted to show me something.”

Cobb nods. “Right.” He waves his hand. “Look around.”

“What?”

“Do it.”

I take another sip of water and scan the room. A few villagers laugh at a table nearby. A Tusken mask hangs from the wall beside a necklace of beads and sanded teeth. Next to the bar counter sits a basket of black melons and a pitcher of blue milk. A few Sand People cluster in the corner and sign with the villagers, their hands waving in correlation with their grunts.

I watch the conversation with a cold warmth in my chest. My chest squeezes and I find it harder to breathe. “Cobb, I…”

The Marshal points to the Tuskens, “that was you,” the mask, “so was that,” and the melons, “and that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mando, you changed this town for the better. When once we’d been terrified of the Tuskens, now we welcome them. It’s still a little awkward at times, but it works. You did that, Mando. _You._ ” His hazel eyes flash in the milky sunlight.

I avert my gaze and poke the ice in my glass. My eyes prickle with tears, a few of which trickle down my cheeks. I rush to wipe them away.

Cobb takes my shoulder, lowering his voice. “Hey, now, what’s wrong, partner?”

I release a shaky breath. “Cobb, what you’ve done here is…amazing, and,” more tears fall, “I know I should be happy, but I’m not. I’m just…”

_Numb._

“…empty.”

Cobb watches me, his eyes softening like chocolate-chip cookies. He squeezes my shoulder and brushes a tear from my face. “Come with me.” He gives me a little smile and leads me out to a garage of speeder-bikes. “Pick one. Let’s take a ride.”

I squint at him. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

***

Two hours later, Cobb lifts a fist and we slow to a stop in the middle of nowhere. A few metal poles stick out of the ground, protruding from the ocean of sand. We park our bikes beside a pole and dismount. A dry breeze whistles through the desert and Banthas moo on the wind.

I turn to Cobb. “What are we doing here?”

The Marshal leans against his speederbike and sighs. “Mando, listen. I want you to know something.”

My stomach twists.

“Grogu was the kid’s name?”

I clench my jaw. “Yeah.”

“When you came here for the first time, that kid touched me immediately. Somethin’ about his lil ears, tiny hands, and giant eyes warmed my heart that day. It’s why I decided to trust you.” Cobb crosses his arms. “Mando, you’re lucky. That kid was somethin’ else and he _loved_ you. He may not have been human, but even I could see it.”

Tears burn in my eyes. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He steps toward me. “I heard everything from Marshal Dune. How you found him, risked your life to protect him, and in return you saved each other…”

“Cobb– .”

“And I heard what happened. Your blind desperation to rescue him. Having to give him up right after– .”

“ _Stop._ ” The world blurs over in a haze of tears. My throat closes and I can feel the sobs building in my chest.

“Mando, you loved him. Like a father. And he saw you as such. It was as clear as a Tatooine sunrise.”

My entire body trembles. _Damn you, Cobb…_

“I can see you miss him and– .”

“What the _hell,_ Cobb?” I whirl around, tears scalding a path down my cheeks.

“Mando, I know what you’re going through.”

“Oh, really?” I stomp toward him, shuddering with sobs. “You know what it feels like to say goodbye to your child? To watch them leave you? To know that you’ll never, ever see them again?”

“Yes! Mando– .”

“It’s _DIN._ ” The name rasps from my throat.

“Wh-what?”

“My name. Is Din. Djarin. I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wore the armor. You– .”

“I took my helmet off in a room full of people!” I’m yelling now, practically choking on my own tears. “Twice!” My throat burns. “I don’t deserve to wear that Beskar anymore! Not the helmet, not the signet, not the title. My kid became my Creed. Without him, I’m– !” I break off with a violent sob, but I keep going. “I’m-I’m nothing! Without him, every time I _breathe,_ I’m being torn apart!”

“I’m telling you that I understand!”

“You’ve lived in this quiet city for years and years and you claim to know what I feel?”

“I’ve– !”

“ _No,_ Cobb!” I clench my fists so hard that my nails draw blood. “You don’t know what it’s like to cry yourself to sleep! To feel that you’ll _never_ be whole again, to feel like your world is falling apart over and over and over and– !”

Cobb seizes my shoulders. “I know EXACTLY how it feels!” He shouts through his own tears. “Because you’re _ME!_ ”

Silence.

There we stand, in the middle of the Dune Sea, both hurting, both trembling, both crying.

I stare at him.

He stares at me.

My voice refuses to come.

Cobb finds his first. “A few years ago…” he lowers his head and releases me, “I met someone. The most…amazing woman ever named Vihn. We dated, I proposed, she said yes.” A pained smile breaks the frown on his face. “We married, had our wedding over at Endor. We came back, had our honeymoon, everything was perfect and beautiful. One day she decided to help with Mos Pelgo’s hunting. Never made it back. A sandstorm took both her and our unborn child.”

My heart skips a beat. “Cobb…”

The Marshal gestures around him. “This is where she died. We found the speederbike, but not her body. The sand buried the bones.” He swipes a tear away and kicks at the ground.

I watch him, my mouth open as if I’m going to speak. But I don’t. I can’t think of anything to say.

“So… _Din._ ” Cobb turns around and smooths the fabric on my shoulders. “Please, _please_ trust me when I say that I know exactly what you’re feeling. Because I’ve been there. The drinking, the crying at night, the loneliness– Din, I _know._ ” He purses his lips and nods. “And I’m going to be there for you every step of way.”

Finally, I break.

Cobb pulls me into a hug as my sobs overwhelm me. He holds me for as long as it takes for my tears to dry, then he withdraws, scanning my blotchy face. “You okay, partner?”

I nod, every muscle drained. “I’m so s– .”

“Don’t you dare apologize, buddy. No way in hell that’s allowed.” He surrenders to a wheezy chuckle.

I smile for the second time today and pat him on the shoulder. “Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime.” Cobb smirks and backs up. “All right, you ready to head back? I think we both need to have some fun.”

My ears twitch.

_Beep. Beep._

The sand under my feet vibrates.

Cobb walks toward his speederbike, stretching. “Gotta say, it’s a nice– .”

“Shh.” I put a hand up and listen.

_Beep. Beep._

“What is it?”

_Beep. Beep._

“You hear that?” I step in the direction of the sound. The vibrating spreads upward into my legs.

_Beep, beep, beep._

I move forward a few more steps.

_Beep, beep, beep._

One more step.

_What the hell is that?_

Cobb yells from behind me. “Wait, NO!”

One more st–

The ground erupts and an explosion of fire blinds me.

Everything goes white. Completely white.

There’s nothing.

When the darkness pulls back, just for a moment, I only see the blood– on my hands, my legs, my chest– and Cobb lying on his back a few yards away from me, unmoving.

Then I black out in the middle of the Dune Sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHAHAHAHAA!!! Cliffhanger!!!!! :P
> 
> What do you think? Read and review!


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